Picking Up The Pieces
by EmmyLovett
Summary: This is a re-upload of the sequal to Second's Warning. It is set just after the bombings of May 2008. Emma/Callum.
1. Closure

_As I explained very, very quickly in the summary, this is a re-upload of the seuqal to Second's Warning, which was set after the May 2008 bombings. I deleted it a couple of months ago, after realising it wasn't finished and aspects of it weren't too great compared to some of my other writing. I doubt I would have even given it a second thought had it not been for Bookworm06 who has asked me about the where abouts of this fic. So, as we speak I'm reading throuh later chapters, editing them slightly, and once that is done, I intend to finish it off. There are ten chapters at the moment, so this may increase however I may be able to just attach the ending on to chapter ten. _

_I hope you enjoy it - this one's for you Bookworm06 :) _

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_**Picking up the Pieces**_

_**Closure**_

"You an' 'im have come back worse than you went off!" Sally moaned, pretending to clobber Emma over the head with a wine bottle. "T'wasn't the idea."

"Yeah, well nothing ended up being 'the idea'." Emma said dryly.

"That bad?" Emma was in two minds about divulging all to Sally. Deciding against it, Emma nodded half-heartedly. All she'd get from her friend was a stern bollocking about how she'd been a prat and ought to go grovelling back to Callum. That was out of the question, even if she half knew that to be the answer herself. "You're gonna have to face him at work tomorrow you realise." Sally warned.

"I know. I'm just hoping I'll be pissed enough not to notice him." She replied, pouring her glass of wine down her throat like there was no tomorrow.

"You won't just be pissed as hell but in hospital needing your stomach pumped if you don't give up on the drink, hon." Sally advised, knowing Emma was still on some medication. "And what can be so bad that you can't face him?" It was obvious Sally was completely oblivious to Emma's predicament. Her questions showed it wasn't even worth explaining.

"It was just a million miles from what I thought it would be." Emma said stubbornly, still not giving anything away. Sally could give her all the glares in the world and she still wouldn't spill; just continue with the double meanings that no one but she and possibly Callum would understand.

"Don't let him get under your skin." Sally advised wisely. Emma chortled, a nauseating feeling rising in her stomach as her heart panged and she realised that not only was he well and truly under her skin, but totally, irreversibly in her head too.

"I won't." Emma smiled, pretending to be glad of the warning. "God! I'm shattered!" Emma laughed, faking a yawn. Sally jumped up.

"Oh Emma, Hon; you should have said something!" She gushed, hugging her friend tightly after making her way to Emma's door, pulling her jacket on to shield herself from the unexplainable cold that always seemed to hug itself around her.

"Don't worry! Just… I dunno, jet lagged or something. It'd be about three A.M. in Milan." Sally's mouth dropped open, she'd totally forgot the time lapse.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow." Sally smiled, kissing Emma amiably on the cheek before bouncing off down the pathway, too chirpy for this late. "Night!" She shouted, shutting the iron gate before she started her short walk home, leaving her car parked outside Emma's house, ready to be picked up the evening after, once work had finished.

Emma dragged herself back upstairs, falling into her bed for the second time that day, having desperately needed sleep when she had returned back home. She pulled the covers up around her chin, scolding herself as she wondered whether she missed the warm mass that had occupied the space next to her for the previous couple of nights. Dragging one of her pillows over her head in attempt to block her flow of thought as her mind wandered even further, exploring the scenario that would mean Callum was have been with her now, be it at his place or hers.

***

"And finally, I'd like to welcome back PC Keane and Sergeant Stone from their weekend away." Gina concluded, smiling widely at the group, not noticing that Emma and Callum were doing all they could not to have to look at each other. "I'll pass you over to Superintendent Heaton…" Gina turned to face her superior who was looking grimmer than usual.

"As I'm sure many of you are aware, today is the four week anniversary of the bombings that happened in early May. Whilst most of you will be resuming normal duties; along with the Counter Terrorism Unit some of you will be policing the streets around where the bombs were detonated. I expect all of you to be wearing high vis. jackets and obviously the safety of all officers is paramount, so I hope it goes without saying that you stick together no matter what." He eyed the group carefully, making last minute notes in his mind about who would be doing what. "DCI Meadows and DI Nixon will be attending a memorial service later on this morning and I was wondering if I have two volunteers from uniform to go as well." No one moved, all horrified by the idea. "Ok, well if you would like to speak to me individually, then you know where I am; if not I'll be forced to nominate two officers." John floated from the room, signalling the end of briefing. Twenty odd chairs scraped the lino flooring as officers scrambled out of the door, most of them moving fast so they wouldn't be the last hanging around the station, so forced to attend the service. Emma was last in the room, thoroughly exhausted already – just ignoring Callum was proving hard work. As long as she didn't have to work with him, she decided, all would be fine.

***

Emma milled around outside the maple coloured door she knew to be John Heaton's room. Not only did the stainless steal plaque tell her so, but also the slim slit in the door gave her a slight insight into her superior's world. He was slouched at the computer, deep in thought. He'd already changed into his work 'best', shunning the usual uniform for a black jacket decorated with various MET memorabilia. Emma sighed, knocking quietly on the door. Heaton looked up as Emma stepped into the office. He showed her to a chair opposite his desk with a quick flourish of the hand.

"What can I do for you Emma?" He asked.

"I was wondering if I could… uh, well come with you to the service?" She asked timidly. Heaton's head short up from his lap, a stunned silence bouncing off the walls.

"Are you sure that's wise Emma?" He asked. Emma sighed, and nodded.

"Call it… closure." She said. "I just think that I should go because I was involved and because… well I just feel like I should be there. Y'ano when you get a feeling… you aren't really sure what to do, but you know if you don't do it, it's something you'd regret for a long time." She explained.

"I see…"

"I know I'm probably the last person you really want to go… but I hope you understand why."

"I do Emma, and it's completely against my better judgement, but I'm going to let you; however any sign of it getting too much for you then you'll be straight back to the station – understand?" Emma smiled weakly, nodding, more nervous now than she was five minutes ago. She'd been secretly hoping Heaton would put his foot down in a big way; at least then it wouldn't have been her fault she hadn't attended.

"Thank you Sir." Emma said graciously, standing up. She walked over to the door, before stopping and turning to face John again. "Do you know who else is going?" She asked. Heaton shook his head.

"'Fraid not. Sorry." John replied, worry creasing into his forehead as he glanced at the clock. He and the officers' had to be gone in fifteen minutes. "We're meeting outside in ten – I've no idea what the traffic will be like…" Yet more lines appeared on his pale forehead. As Emma ducked out of the room, she could tell this thing was making Heaton very nervous – but then she guessed it would her too, with the off-chance of a copy-cat explosion and the PR the memorial service was bound to bring, she understood why Heaton wanted everything to go smoothly. She made her way down to the girls' locker room where she would retrieve her jacket and dump her stab vest before making sure her make up was still intact and she had some foundation and mascara in her bag. Her own jacket wasn't as decorated as Heaton's, but it still had the odd shimmer of silver. As she went she was vaguely aware of a few officers smiling and saying 'Hello' or 'Welcome Back'. She never managed to say anything in reply, her thoughts consumed with the protocol of today. She had no idea who to talk to, what to say or how to carry herself. Should she be thankful she pulled through, or sad about the people who hadn't been so lucky? Reminding herself it was all about balance, Emma tried to reassure herself everything would be fine. What kind of selfish person would resent her for not being killed in the explosion?


	2. Open Wounds

_**Picking up the Pieces**_

_**Open Wounds**_

Emma slunk into the large hall were several hundred people were milling around, some clutching drinks, others nothing more than a handbag. She felt totally out of place – her earlier thoughts that no one would begrudge her the gift of life, totally out of the window. Many people had red eyes, and blotchy cheeks to match. All she had to worry about was her make up slipping to reveal something she'd rather not.

Several camera flashes flickered from different parts of the room, alerting Emma to the media presence. "Alright?" Callum asked casually, as he shuffled over to her, for a split second Emma thought he was going to rest his hand on her waist, but he didn't, instead taking a glass of water from a passing waiter.

"Yeah, thanks." Emma smiled weakly. She couldn't believe it when Callum was outside the station talking in depth to Meadows and Nixon. At first, she wondered whether Callum was attending the service, but at closer inspection she saw that he too had lost his stab vest in aid of his blazer. He'd nodded to her curtly, before re-engrossing himself into conversation. Emma had wondered whether they'd ever have the same warped but special and indispensable rapport they had somehow, against all the odds, struck up.

"Wasn't expecting you to be here." He said. Emma sighed; she could have said the same back. "In fact I thought you'd wanna be as far away from here as possible."

"Same reason as you I should think." Emma replied, unable to keep the icy shards from her voice.

"What being bullied into it by the DI and Super for 'good PR'?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh!" She couldn't help but smile slightly. "Not quite."

"What are you two whispering about?" Sam asked, coming over, her black suit jacket done up, concealing the pale pink jumper underneath. Emma and Callum stepped apart, each hiding a slightly pink tinge that was growing on their cheeks. "What happened to the whole 'personable, approachable and friendly' exterior we were supposed to be giving off? You two hiding in the corner isn't my definition of circulating."

"Ma'am." The pair both replied dutifully, neither quite making eye contact.

"What I came over to say was, the Canley Gazette wants you two along with the DCI, Super and myself for a photo or something." Sam informed the two, who both looked equally stricken by the idea. "I know, I know, not exactly my idea of fun either, but any good press night now has to be a positive thing."

"When?" Emma asked sullenly.

"As soon as they get the background up. Some sponsors' and so on." Sam said, glancing over towards a window where a white screen was being constructed. Several company names were dotted over it, with their slogans dancing beneath. It wouldn't have looked out of place at an wards ceremony, which left a slightly sickening feeling brewing in the pit Emma's stomach. Was this what the bombings had been reduced to?

"You told them about the speech, Sam?" Jack asked as he came over, leaving Heaton with some affluent looking people. The blank look on Emma and Callum's faces gave a pretty good idea of the answer. "Towards the end of the morning, the Mayor and Counsellor want a police view on things. Obviously neither of you have to, but seeing as you were involved…" Jack trailed off. Emma thought back to when she last spoke before a large crowd. Stage fright didn't quite cover it. She started stuttering, her knees were shaking more than she knew how to handle and her heart was racing unhealthily.

"It'd look good…" Sam encouraged. Emma's head shot up; that had to be the third or fourth time 'positive PR' had been mentioned. Did her feelings not come into this? Was she expected to switch off and become some sort of machine or robot?

"I'll do it if you do." Emma bargained finally; looking up at Callum, fed up with the looks of pleading attached to her superiors' faces. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it properly.

"I… err… I really don't think that's wise." Callum stuttered, his usual egotistical image lost somewhere along the way.

"I'll let the Mayor know your both up for it." Sam smiled briskly and walked off, her heels tapping against the wooden flooring – Emma came to the conclusion she either had selective hearing or was purposefully ignoring Callum's sentiments of worry. Only as the blonde was walking away, did Emma realise that she wouldn't have a plan of any sort when she was talking.

"Just play it by ear." Jack reassured Emma, sensing her worry. Secretly, he was glad he wasn't in her shoes right now. "I'll leave you two to it…" And he too was gone, leaving Emma and Callum alone once more, not realising the uncomfortable silence he was leaving behind.

"So what are we going to say?" Emma asked tentatively.

"I was hoping you'd have some idea actually…" He replied, smiling down at Emma, who couldn't help but smile back slightly, the butterflies growing in size in her stomach, before she managed to calm herself down. It was just a smile. "Just start at the beginning I guess…"

"…And finish at the end." Emma agreed, wondering just where the end was. Was it after the bombs, when Callum was desperately trying to save her, or when she woke up in hospital or even when she finally managed to piece together everything that had happened? "It's the middle I'm worried about though." Emma admitted quietly.

***

"Today we're lucky enough to be joined by five representatives from Sun Hill police station. Superintendent John Heaton, DCI Jack Meadows, DI Samantha Nixon, Sergeant Callum Stone and PC Emma Keane, two of whom were almost fatally involved in the blasts that rocked the city a month ago. PC Keane, Sergeant Stone; over to you." The Mayor stepped down from a wooden podium, letting Emma followed by Callum take his place.

"I'm Emma Keane, and this is my colleague…" Emma swallowed hard – it didn't sound right to be saying that. "…Callum Stone. Uhh, well…" Again she swallowed, feeling herself redden slightly as she looked up into the audience.

"We were only told we were doing this about an hour ago, so you'll have to bear with us I'm afraid." Callum smiled, looking at Emma, silently encouraging her on. Emma mouthed 'thank you' towards him before carrying on.

"It really did start like any other day, no matter what a cliché that is. We had the morning briefing, as normal, were assigned to our beat partners, as normal. Only ten minutes or so after leaving the station, the first of the bombs went off. PC Sally Armstrong and myself were first on the scene. The years of police training just goes out of your mind when confronted with reality. The harder you try to picture the textbook or the revision posters, the more blurred they get, until you realise that you are completely alone, and the decisions you make now… well they have a whole multitude of aftershocks, if you like."

"I joined Emma and Sally a little later on, once the shout had been called in. You really are working on autopilot. Making sure if anyone's hurt they are getting seen too, if anyone witnessed something they come forward. That kind of things is crucial in an event like this."

"Were you not scared?" A voice from the back asked. Emma suspected it was a reporter. Both she and Callum nodded.

"Yes… but you don't realise that until you're looking back at everything that happened. All I had the mental capacity to think about was saving as many people as it was possible to do so. Anything could have happened, it's like when you're playing a game, you don't go into it thinking about losing. I know now there could have been another bomb or even something worse. You don't know what to expect, every case is totally different and you never know what you're working on until it's too late." Emma elaborated. "After spending the morning and early afternoon rushing around, we were relieved by some more officers, but everywhere you went in the station, the televisions were on each playing live feedback from the scene. It wasn't really anyone's definition of being relieved."

"I was paired with Emma for afternoon – none of us were really sure how others would fare up… I guess it was more important than ever we stuck together."

"We…" Emma signalled at her and Callum, quickly thinking up a mental plan. She couldn't say she and Callum had argued and she had stormed off, she couldn't say Callum had threatened a suspect not only because he would face investigation, but also the bit about the paedo-come-doctor was still classified information. "We made our way down to the river, I guess intent on staying as far away from the bomb scene as possible."

The cameras were flickering wildly along the back row and she could hear a reporter talking in a muffled whisper. "A few streets away though, I heard a fire alarm. Cal… Sergeant Stone," Emma blustered, closing her eyes, squeezing her hands tight together, her nails leaving small indentations in the palm of her clammy hands. "…stayed down at the river side, and I went off towards the alarm. I ran inside, unable to see any flames or smoke. I was in radio contact to the station all the time, and also talking to a young receptionist. We got everyone out… and were all of metres from the door ourselves when we realised that there were two other people behind us." By now, tears were welling up in Emma's eyes; it was all very well her having to tell the story, but no one, least of all her, had anticipated the flood of emotions that would come with it. "That's when… you know… the bomb went off." Emma said quickly, flicking several salty tears from her eyes before they had chance to ruin her make up. Below the podium, Emma felt Callum entwine his fingers through hers. His hands were warmer than hers and for a split second, brought the feeling back to the tips of her fingers. She dared herself to enjoy the sensation, before shaking herself back to her senses. Glaring at Callum she ripped their fingers apart, holding her hand gingerly as if it had been burnt by the contact. "Excuse me." Tears were now oozing freely down Emma's cheeks, to hell with her makeup, leaving grey-orange tinges in their wake. Surprisingly it wasn't the memories of the bomb that hurt, but the memories of her and Callum's blissful weekend away and then the crashing reality of her abrupt ending to it all. She'd really thought it was for the best.

She jumped down from the stage, ducking between the people who were congregated, all watching her avidly. Before she really knew where she was, she found herself cowering over the sinks in the ladies, the porcelain masses all that were keeping her on feet. She daren't look in the mirrors above, because that, well that would mean admitting to herself what she wished upon all wishes wasn't really there.


	3. Nothing's Broken

_**Picking up the Pieces**_

_**Nothing's Broken**_

"I heard the explosion, and instinct told me I had to follow." Callum glanced at the door as it shut, Emma dashing past it, before another door slammed seconds later. "I didn't really know what to expect, or… where it was. When I got to the offices, everyone was outside, but they were all silent. I guess it was shock. I went in… it was… uhm… pretty hard." He admitted. "There was the obvious ash, dust and rubble, but blood too." He swallowed hard before breathing deeply. He didn't want to be here, he didn't care about the media any more; he just wanted to make sure Emma was ok. "When I found Emma, she was unconscious. I tried CPR – it didn't… well it wasn't brilliant and when the paramedics arrived, they had to resuscitate her, and again on the ambulance. They made no secret of the fact they didn't think she'd pull through. But she did… and the cliché being, against all odds. Emma doesn't know why she's here and so many others aren't. It's really… God it's really affected her. She's so humble – yeah, the whole thing has really, really hit her hard. She's really thankful for all the support, but I know, know, she doesn't get why she's being dubbed 'Hero' or anything like that. As far as she's concerned she was only doing her job." Callum couldn't think of anything else to say. Maybe there was more, maybe there wasn't, he'd only realise later when he was tossing and turning in bed, waiting for the morning to come; for the press release to be publicised across the whole of London. "Uh… thank you." He smiled briefly, before leaving the stage, the Mayor not hiding his shock at how quickly it had all ending too well.

***

"Emma?" Callum knocked gently on the heavy looking wooden door that led to the ladies'.

"Bugger off!" Callum couldn't help but turn his head to see if anyone had heard her. That was sure to outshine their impromptu speech. Ignoring her completely, Callum walked over the threshold, Emma jamming her foot against the door a few seconds too late. She turned around swiftly, scraping her hands over her eyes, her fingers feeling like sandpaper of the coarsest grain. "I want to be alone." Emma said stiffly.

"Yeah, well look what happened last time I let that happen." Callum retorted smoothly. "I'm not going anywhere." He insisted, placing a hand on Emma's shoulder, retracting it slightly as she tensed at his touch. His fingers lingered above her for a few seconds before he dropped them to his side.

"Why Callum?" Emma asked timidly, still facing the wall.

"Why… what Emma?" He asked.

"You bloody well know what!" Emma snarled, before losing the temper she'd acquired as quickly as it had appeared. "You tried to hold my hand." She said, her tone several octaves higher than usual as she spoke deep in despair. "Why?"

"I… I dunno Em, I just…" He shrugged lamely. Callum didn't take his eyes off Emma. He couldn't help but wonder if her shoulders fell a few inches. "I didn't realise it would be a problem." Granted it wasn't quite an apology, for Callum, well it was something.

"Emma!" Sam came crashing through the door, looking frantic and flushed. She stopped dead, seeing she wasn't the only one searching for Emma.

Emma span around, instantly regretting her actions as both Sam and Callum's mouths dropped open.

"It's nothing." Emma said briskly, holding her hand over her left cheek, close to her eye. "Nothing." She repeated firmly. Only then did her colleagues close their mouths and steal themselves from staring.

"Callum, will you go and find Superintendant Heaton and tell him we are going back to the station?" For a split second, he dared to linger, before he smiled ever so slightly at Emma and left. Sam placed a motherly arm around Emma and silently guided her from the toilets and out of the Town Hall. The journey back to the station wasn't a comfortable one. Neither Sam nor Emma spoke, Emma shielding her skin from view, Sam pretending to concentrate on driving, but every now and then looking across at Emma, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the younger girl. Sam stopped outside of the station on the yellow hatching. "I want you in my office in five minutes." Sam said sharply as Emma unbelted.

"Ma'am." Emma said sullenly.

"Emma…" Emma stopped closing the door, bending down so she could see Sam. "I'm not doing this as your superior, I'm doing it as your friend." Sam advised. Emma managed to smile weakly, somehow choking out her thanks. "Go put your face on… I mean…" Sam blushed, she hadn't meant for it to sound like that at all. "I mean, God Emma… go sort yourself out ok, love?" Emma nodded, looking behind her to see who was on reception. Her hand was replaced against her cheek before she dashed into the station, keeping her head down as she fled to the safety of the locker rooms.

Daring herself to peer into the mirror, she flinched at what she saw. Just below her left eye, a thick, angry red line wiggled its way down to just above her cheekbone. Without the make up that Emma had routinely escaped to paste over it every couple of hours, the skin surrounding it was a yellow green colour and was visibly swollen. Salty tears swept their way down her cheeks as she broke down, this making her skin even redder, and even sorer as she rubbed her uneven jumper cuff against the broken skin. Blotting at her eyes with some tissue, Emma took several deep breaths in vain attempt to control herself. Her breath was still jagged, but the tears subsided. She squeezed her bottle of trusty foundation, a small dollop spurting onto the side of her hand. Using her fingers she gingerly applied the pale liquid under her eyes, on her nose and forehead before working it in, holding her face to one side, and then the other as she went. She dropped her Chanel bottle back into the lilac make up bag she was clutching. That stuff had cost her a small fortune, but she couldn't complain, it covered her bruises and scars, even if it wasn't waterproof. Digging around again, Emma produced a tube of not so flash back mascara and proceeded to lightly coat her lashes in that, before sweeping a cherry gloss over her lips. Deciding she had time, Emma pulled her hair from the tight blue band before she flicked it around her small wrist. She shook her head, her fringe covering one side of her forehead, the rest of her golden hair softening her features. Somehow, in ways unbeknown to Emma, she'd managed to make herself back up in well under five minutes, so would definitely surprise Sam when she showed up in her office so quickly.

***

Emma knocked on Sam's door, slowly pushing down of the handle before walking in, biting down hard on her lip. "I'm really sorry." Emma mumbled, not looking at her Inspector.

"I don't know why your apologising, Emma." Sam reprimanded her gently. "Sit down." Emma did as she was told, holding herself awkwardly, not shifting her gaze from the floor. "How was your weekend?"

"It was good, thank you." Emma replied monotonously. Sam nodded slightly.

"I hear there are some good shops around Milan. I hope Callum let you have a snoop!" Sam said light heartedly. Emma grinned slightly at the happier memories.

"Yeah he did." Emma replied. "There was this one shop… God it was stunning." She said fondly. "Although I think my bank manager will wanna murder me." She cringed slightly, looking at Sam sheepishly.

"To good to miss out on?" Sam asked. Emma nodded.

"Oh yes! It was like… this skirt it's brown… knee length an' all floaty. It's got loads of tiny pale brown flowers on too that have like… been sown on. And the top." Emma allowed herself a small smile. "Pale teal wrap… with loadsa sequins. I say wrap… it has this gorgeous – silk – ribbon around it that held it all together. It's beautiful."

"It sounds it." Sam said, impressed as she imagined the outfit on Emma.

"And…"

"More?" Sam asked, before smiling, giving herself away.

"'Fraid so." Emma admitted. "A scarf. It was dark… dark teal with this gold thread running through it. I fell in love with it, but… well, enough was enough. Callum and I split up after that – he wanted to go look around the city whereas I wanted to… shop!" Emma giggled lightly. "He actually went back to the shop and bought me the scarf." Emma blushed lightly.

"Aww!" Sam cooed, before also laughing. "So… what's the deal between you two then?" She asked.

"Friends." Emma said, not sounding too confident. "Just friends." She nodded. Sam raised a slightly disbelieving eyebrow.

"There will be a few that are disappointed." She speculated. Emma frowned, confused. "You didn't know." Sam said.

"Doesn't look like it…" Emma said completely mystified.

"Oh. Ok. A-few-of-the-relief-may-of-placed-bets-on-whether-you-and-Sergeant-Stone-would-have-got-together." Sam said quickly. She saw out of the corner of her eye Emma's mouth dropped. "Like no one… no one like… God Emma I thought you'd known." Sam blustered guiltily.

"In that case, we're definitely not together!" Emma said, once against putting on a brave face despite the hurt rippling through her. "Anyway!" Emma breezed, sketching over that snippet of information.

"Yes. Yes!" Sam smiled enthusiastically. "Callum did you proud earlier on when he finished off the speech." She said.

"I heard." Emma sighed. That had hurt a lot too – she hadn't realised Callum had such an insight into her feelings.

"He's a good guy you know." Sam said coyly.

"Yeah. So different out of work." Emma agreed, wondering what Sam was trying to say. The conversation seemed to die around Emma. Emma fiddled with her nails, rocked her feet from side to side and crossed and uncrossed her legs, looking up at the ceiling, before averting her eyes to CID. God this was awkward, she thought to herself. Something was telling her though that Sam was about to come out with a shocker.

"I think you should go and see a professional Emma." Sam said, an instant after Emma's thought trail had led her to her conclusion about Sam's direction.

"Like a shrink?" Emma asked.

"Yes." Sam said quietly. "And I think you ought to take a while off work too – you've come back too early."

"W…what?" Emma asked, mortified. The job was all she had.

"You need to talk things through – that's normal Emma." Sam assured her. "Once you've done that… nothing will be as painful. And maybe you could get that wound seen to. Piling makeup on it won't be doing it any good."

"It'll go away." Emma said adamantly. "And anyway, I'm not mad, therefore no psychologist will wanna see me. I'm just…"

"Your just nothing Emma. You've been in a serious accident and… God Emma you're so stubborn!" Sam smiled, shaking her head in despair. "You need to talk about what happened so you can begin to get over it, so you can begin to get your life back on track, otherwise you'll just keep going over and over and over it all until it's driven you completely stir crazy." Emma nodded, she knew that really, but the thought of revealing all to a shrink sent her reeling.

"If I do that, do I have to have time off work?" She asked, wondering if she could strike a deal.

"I can't force you to take leave Emma, all I can do is advise." Sam said. "I can talk to Heaton though, get you some time off whilst you see a counsellor. It'll do you the power of good you know."

"I don't want time off though." Emma said quickly. Sam sighed.

"Right, but if it gets too much, then straight away." Sam clicked her fingers. "You'll be off, you hear me?" Emma nodded obediently. Sam started digging in her desk before she pulled out a small gold card. "She is one of the best councillors in London. The MET will pay for it all because you're hung up over something work related. She's called Ali and she is lovely." Sam stressed, pushing the card into Emma's hand. Emma smiled gratefully. Maybe this was what she needed, for someone to come in and take control of something, instead of leaving it down to her when she evidently just covered everything up with lies and shame. "Seeing as Heaton and Meadows are off, I'm giving you the rest of the day off." Sam said, standing up. "Go home, put your feet up, ring your doctor about your cheek and then give Ali a bell. Tell her I gave you her card. She's a good friend of mine." Emma smiled, standing up as well.

"Thank you Guv." Emma said, touched by all of Sam's actions over the last half an hour or so. She really was making an effort.

"Like I said, I was doing that as a friend." Sam replied, as if she'd done nothing more than what was expected. The two women were oblivious to this, but the 'Humble Bug' was definitely spreading… it wouldn't be long until all the Sun Hill girls were infected!


	4. Anything & Everything

_**Picking up the Pieces**_

_**Everything and Anything**_

"Okay Emma isn't it?" A youngish woman said, peering over a pair of thick rimmed black glasses; her green eyes focusing on an A4 page with hundreds of tiny typed words on. Emma nodded shyly.

"Ok sweetie, I'm Ali Dawson, and I've been counselling for eight years… is there anything else you want to know?" She asked. Emma didn't think she was any older than thirty five. She had cropped blonde hair with shocking green eyes – was it just Emma, or did she look like Sam? Emma bit her tongue hard to stop herself asking.

"No." She smiled up at the therapist, wondering just why she was there.

"Ok… tell me why you're here." Ali said, sitting back in her chair, biting on the end of her pen as she watched Emma intently.

"Right… well because DI Nixon wouldn't have shut up if I hadn't got some kind of professional help!" Emma joked, before turning serious. Ali smiled.

"She seems to have that affect on many people"

"I mean… well because I think I need to talk about what happened because… I go over and over it in my mind but as soon as I need to talk about it – I just clam up. Start crying. I don't know how to express myself about any of it. It scares me." Emma admitted, looking at the floor, tugging at her red t-shirt so it rested a little lower down her jeans.

"That's a good start Emma." Ali encouraged her, smiling, her green eyes sparkling under the light. "What do you remember?" Emma recounted the story about how she and Callum had argued, before she had stormed off, stumbling across the offices. How she'd helped get everyone out, before finally almost managing to get out herself, unfortunately not quite managing it. "And after the explosion?"

"I woke up in hospital a week or so after." Emma replied simply. "Callum was with me."

"The same Callum you'd argued with?" Emma nodded. "The same Callum who went to Milan with you?" Again Emma nodded. "What's the deal with you and this Callum?" Ali asked, chewing intently on the end of her black biro.

"Well… we argued. Some might call it a power struggle. He's… well he's Callum, but I didn't exactly like they way he dealt with things. Then… I was told he was first on the scene; that he tried to save my life. And when I woke up he was sitting by my bed. Then I invited him to Milan and I saw a really different side to him."

"As a friend or as something more. As a partner?" Ali continued digging in a way Emma found slightly intrusive, but she knew that it was all for a reason, that she had to let her continue so she could build a clear picture on her mental state.

"As both I guess. I realised I liked him more than I should before we left…"

"… More than you should? What's wrong with liking him?" Ali asked, cutting up off midsentence, looking interested.

"God, nothing's wrong with _him_. He's my Sergeant… he's my colleague. It's not exactly looked on positively by the MET." Emma explained. "Whilst we were in Milan, we… we kissed." Emma whispered the last bit, not ashamed, but not wishing for anyone to overhear. "Anyone would have thought we'd gone on holiday as a couple not just as friends. He was so understanding and sweet and… it was a side to him I'd never seen before. He really drew me in. But when we were on the way home… he asked what would happen once we got back to London. He said he really liked me – that scared me because I realised that I liked him too, but I wasn't sure what would happen. Would we be able to get together freely, would he go back to being the self centred arrogant pig, would I go back to the bitchy, cold Emma? There was so much uncertainty that I pushed him away, thinking it was for the better…"

"You didn't want to hurt him? Or yourself, you thought it would be easier?" Ali asked, frowning. Emma sighed and nodded, closing her eyes, a tear dropping from her lashes.

"I was married just over a year ago but… it didn't end well." Emma pulled her sleeves over her hands. "He was very… abusive and when I told him I wanted out, he attacked me. I hit him with a bottle he'd been drinking from, and he tried to get me for attempted murder or GBH – the charges fell through but… well, I haven't been with anyone since and I… I know it sounds pathetic and naïve, but I want a relationship I can be proud about, one where I don't have to hide anything and one that I understand without having to interpret any double meanings. I don't know if Callum could give me all that." Ali ran her fingers through her fine hair before taking her glasses off. She looked at Emma before standing up and joining her on the leather sofa. Her heels clicked against the mahogany flooring. She was tiny, Emma realised, even with her heels probably not quite making 5'3".

"I think Emma, you're quite insecure within yourself. You seem to have these two layers: one that is very vulnerable, very self-conscious, and the other a harder, more icy one that you armour yourself up with, the one that you talked about that seems to come up when you're around Callum. You had a bad marriage, and now you're looking for a stable, honest relationship that's easy but loving." Ali started, consulting her pad quickly. Emma hadn't realised how much she'd noted down. "I don't think the problem is with the explosion as much but with your past in general. Your ex-husband sounds like he put the frighteners on you and I understand why you want just what you do, but it's vital you learn to trust again. The first step with another guy is bound to be a scary one. It'll unnerve you and for a few weeks it'll probably seem really, really weird."

"I just… I thought it was all down to the explosion." Emma said, confused.

"I think that made it all come to head." Ali agreed with her. "Again, it's a very scary, life changing experience just like the one you had with your ex, but this time, instead of you being left alone, it's brought someone closer to you and you don't know how to deal with it because of your apprehensions." Ali took one of Emma's hands that had fallen against the sofa. "I know this is a lot to take in love, but it's going to help. I'm not saying that you should get back with Callum, you obviously had your reasons for finishing things, but maybe it's time for you to channel your trust into someone so you in turn learn to trust yourself again. One bad decision doesn't make you a bad person and it certainly doesn't taint you." Emma nodded, fishing for a tissue in her jeans pocket, wiping her eyes and then her nose. God she hadn't realised it would be so emotional.

"Thank you." Emma smiled sincerely. Ali let go of Emma's hand, looking at her carefully.

"You need to stop hiding." She advised, looking at her face, thick with make up. "People will love you for who you are, not what you look like or anything so superficial." Ali promised her, smiling gently, still not taking her eyes off Emma. "You've made the first step now Emma, I want to see you again in two weeks, and I want you to keep a diary of any thoughts or feelings you get before then, any significant changes – just… everything." Ali finished spreading her arms out wide. "Everything and Anything." She said firmly, placing a marble effect book in Emma's hand. It had several leaflets in, as well as Ali's name and number on the front. "You're a strong, independent woman, I know that – and I think you do too."

"Thank you."

"If you have any problems or questions then give me a call. Yes?"

"Yes." Emma agreed, running her thumb over the gold embellished type. 'Ali Dawson, 07735867278'. "Thank you so much." Emma repeated as Ali showed her the door.

"You've been a joy to talk with sweetie." Ali reassured Emma. "Despite what you think, you're doing well. Really well!" Emma nodded, swallowing hard, coming to terms with that new idea. "See you a week on Tuesday!" The door had almost closed behind Emma when she turned suddenly and opened her mouth, before pausing looking at Ali's bemused face.

"Are you… I know it's none of my business, but are you related to Samantha Nixon?" Emma asked. Ali grinned and nodded.

"The one and only." She laughed. "Yeah… I'm her baby sister."

"Oh… thought so." Emma smiled. "You two look really alike." She added cheekily, before turning around, waving vaguely before she turned into the reception area. She really felt like she'd connected with Ali. Sam was right; she was one of the best 'Shrinks' in London. She didn't patronise or smother, but tell the truth so her patient could see the facts as they were. Whoever said counselling was for manic depressives or teens with anger management problems was definitely short sighted and in need of a good talking to themselves…


	5. The Angel & The Devil

**Picking up the Pieces**

**The Angel and The Devil**

'Thanks – Ali really helped me today

_Emma x'_

Emma sent the virtual page off, flying around the World, as the picture that popped up on the screen would have you believe. Dropping her phone, Emma saw the paper bag she'd picked up from the doctors surgery, a prescription stapled onto it.

"It just looks a little infected." Emma was told after the doctor and pulled and pushed at her skin for five minutes. "And I'm sure the make up you're wearing won't be doing it any good either." He said sternly. Emma sighed, knowing she wouldn't be able to go out without her trusty bottle of foundation in her bag until it had healed.

"I know." Emma nodded slowly, wondering if she could prise herself off the stuff – or at least reduce what she used.

"What I'm going to do is put you on a course of Antibiotics. That should clear it up and help it heal." The doctor scribbled over some pale green paper in the usual illegible scrawl that everyone seemed to think was on the syllabus at Medical School.

"Thank you." Emma smiled.

"There you go." He handed her over the prescription and directed her to the pharmacy over the road, which would; he thought have the medication she needed. "If it doesn't get better in a week or two, come back and see me. I'll get something figured." He assured her, before Emma left the small, box like room. At least it wasn't anything serious she thought to herself as she passed through the waiting room where hoards of people were coughing and spluttering over the complimentary magazines.

Emma picked up her phone, stopping in her tracks as her doorbell rang through the house. Running her hands through her hair she pulled herself from the comfort of her sofa and, sliding on the laminate floor in her slippers, went to answer the door. As if on autocue, she smiled, before she actually saw who was standing on the other side. It wasn't that she didn't want to see him, or that she was annoyed with him for showing up out of the blue; she was just shocked that he had.

"Callum." She stated, shocked, as she stood to the side, letting him in.

"Hey… how are you?" He asked. Emma smiled and nodded.

"I'm good thanks."

"Just… well you haven't been in work and no one seems to know why." He explained the reason for his visit.

"Come to check up on me, have you?" She asked light heartedly, sitting down.

"Somethin' like that." Callum grinned, also taking a seat, looking around Emma's living room. It said so much about her. There were sentimental photographs dotted everywhere, some black and white, some full colour; the odd few jumping out at Callum as if they were in 3-D. There was a vase of eccentrically coloured followers on the fire place, and some candles next to them. She had several gossip magazines piled on the glass coffee table, 'OK' was on top, with 'Grazia' beneath. "Where have you been?" He asked.

"Oh… I had a doctors appointment about this." Emma pointed to her cheek, losing her eyes in Callum's as he lost himself her in her, his face a picture of concern. "It's just infected." She added. "Nothing a course of antibiotics won't clear up."

"That's good." Callum replied uneasily. "But… that doesn't take a whole day." He pressed. He watched Emma squirm in her seat. She sat up and passed him the diary she had dropped next to the sofa. "A diary… Who's Ali Dawson?" He asked looking at the black cover, not daring himself to flick through the inside pages. Something's were to stay private.

"She's my…" Emma swallowed and averted her eyes from Callum's. "She's a counsellor." No one said anything. "It doesn't mean I'm deluded, you know." Emma said quietly.

"I know, I know." Callum said quickly, almost dropping his hand on Emma's arm. She looked at him suddenly, a glint in her eye that he couldn't work out. She didn't drop her gaze as her breathing increased, her shoulders dipping suddenly every few seconds.

"I just… needed someone to talk to."

"I thought you were… ok. I would have listened over the weekend you know." Callum said softly. Emma smiled, touched.

"You wouldn't of been able to tell me it was my ex husband that I was hung up over, not the explosions would you?" She said. "Strange really… I went to see Ali thinking she could shed some light on what I was feeling about the bombs, and she told me, actually, I was still suffering from Matt." Emma smiled slightly, shaking her head.

"Matt? God Em… more to you than meets the eye." Callum said, rolling his eyes.

"You didn't know?" She asked. Callum looked blank. "You didn't know." She sighed, shaking her head as answered her own question. "I guess… in that case, there is a Hell of a lot you don't know." 'And that's the way it's going to stay'. Emma though, wondering how she could keep something like this from Callum when she knew he had his way of slowly building a picture up of what something was like whether you liked it or not.

"I'm intrigued now Em." Callum smiled, not realising the heartache behind it all. "You're twenty seven and have been married… and divorced long enough for new people down the station not to know."

"Sounds like an episode of EastEnders gone wrong don't it?" Emma said sadly.

"Eh, Em it can't have been that bad."

"Well I promise you it was… and all the rest."

"Talk to me about it… tell me about him." Callum asked as Emma pulled her legs under her on the sofa. She bit down hard on her thumbnail; cracking the pale polish she'd earlier covered her nails in.

"No. You don't want to know." Emma said quietly.

"Maybe this is what Ali meant by you having a problem." Callum suggested, knowing he was treading on eggshells, and seconds later, realising that those eggshells had cracked under the force of his comment. He hadn't ever seen Emma looking quite so hurt – and that really was saying something for he seemed unable to escape hurting her. "I mean… God Emma I'm so sorry – I mean, maybe this whole… thing that you don't wanna talk about is blocked by an emotional barrier that you can't seem to overcome."

"Honours degree in psychology, anyone?" Emma asked, impressed.

"Na… just… experience of people who I know through the job." Callum said. Emma sat silent – why did Callum care what she'd been through anyway?

"Okay… I met him at Uni, and we married in 2006. He was – is, a good few years older than me… whilst I was doing an undergraduate course he was doing a postgraduate in Law. His ex-girlfriend – so I thought – was killed in a car crash just before I met him." Emma started slowing, quickly getting into the swing of things. "I pretty much worshipped the ground he walked on… and then, well, I came to Sun Hill and it gave me a sense of freedom. I met Will and it was kinda clear that… that there was something between us. Matt and I split briefly and that's when Will and I got together… I'm sure you've heard about what happened?" Callum nodded slyly. He didn't like to believe it, but it looked to be true. "Well after that night, Matt proposed to me and I… accepted. Like I said we got married in Autumn 2006 – after I was stupid enough to tell him about me and Will, but I guess, that is another story. Pretty soon after that, I started to be forced into things – going out with him and his mates when I'd been asked out with the relief, going to his parents for the weekend. Nothing major, but then slowly I started to break contact with people when I was out of work. Matt made me believe I was too close to them – he said it was because he didn't want to lose me like he lost Nina. Then came kids. He wanted me to quit Sun Hill so we could start a family – but I was… well I felt too young. I was twenty six – that isn't right, is it?" Emma asked. It was a rhetorical question, Callum stayed silent. "He even went as far as filling in a resignation form for me." At this point, Callum's mouth dropped open. Emma noticed, but carried on, closing her eyes, reliving months of pain and sadness that she thought she was over. "This carried on over weeks and months… it became verbal after a while. He told me I was fat…"

"Your not." Callum said quickly, without thinking. Emma's lips turned up slightly as she blushed a soft rose pink.

"That I was ugly." Emma stopped and swallowed hard. "That I was crap at my job." Again she paused. "That no one down the station liked me."

"None of that Emma… none of it is true."

"Then one day, Will came up to me and told me Nina Lloyd was still alive. I didn't believe him at first. I hated him for it – I thought he was jealous, trying to split Matt and I up – it wouldn't have been the first time. The only thing that swayed me was that he kept going on about it, even though I shouted and screamed at him to stop and just leave me alone. He and I went to meet Nina… and then I realised that it was true… what Will had been telling me." This was going to be the hard bit, and she knew it. She felt Callum's hand close around her own, a mark of support that she was only too grateful for. "Nina told me to get out whilst I could. She said that Matt had abused her and she'd left him. He started off sweet as could be, and then turned nastier and nastier until he was unrecognisable from the man she met. It sounded just like what I'd been through. Nina and I met up several times. We just talked about what we'd been through – what Matt had put us through. Then she talked me into finishing it with him – she said we could go away for a few weeks afterwards and just… escape." Emma looked around, lost in thought. Nina had made it sound so easy. "I went home that night and told him… told him I was going. I'd packed all my stuff before I told him. I was literally ready to go – he'd been drinking – I think he had me sussed because I'd been out later and later in the weeks leading up to it. All I remember – God it happened so fast…" Emma sighed. "He threw me against the wall, and then… then he pushed me to the floor, pulling at my clothes, screaming at me that I wasn't going anywhere." A single tear, followed by a steady flow of more escaped from Emma's eye. She couldn't help it. "I told him I knew about Nina and he lost it – totally lost it. His hands were pressing against my neck harder and harder. He was screaming at me that it was all my fault… that everything… everything was my fault. That if I'd been a better girlfriend, a better wife, he wouldn't have had to punish me." She spoke with such venom, Callum noticed; he winced at her words as she gained momentum in her speech. Emma's hands subconsciously fell around her neck. By this time she was shaking, hard. "There was a Vodka bottle just within reach and… and whilst he was shouting I grabbed it and just…" Emma showed Callum what she did, her hand moving swiftly across her face in a sweeping motion as if she holding something invisible. Then she stopped, her hand falling to her side before she covered her mouth with it, breaking down. "Will and Smithy came in seconds… literally seconds later, and I… I was in the corner and Matt… he was unconscious, he had blood pouring from his head." Emma swallowed, a lump forming in her throat. "I still… when I remember it, it's not me hitting him – it's someone else, it's like… it's like I'm watching from the other end of the room… like for the split second, I was someone else. I had an Angel and a Devil on my shoulders and for that… brief moment, the Devil took over me and… and kicked me out. I wasn't the Angel standing on the other side of the room, but I wasn't me either. I wasn't me…" Emma repeated faintly, before trailing off, exhausted. She sounded… crazy, deluded – like she was suffering from Schizophrenia, but from the expression on Callum's face, she didn't think he thought the same.


	6. Somebody

_**Picking up the Pieces**_

**Somebody**

Callum sat in awe of Emma for several seconds too long. Suddenly realising what she had just divulged, she stood up, pacing around the room, her heart thumping in her chest. She hadn't meant to say any of that. It was supposed to have stayed under lock and key.

"Please… please forget all of that." Emma said, stopping for half a second, just long enough to compile her thoughts. "I just wanna keep it behind me. I've moved on from Matt and his games – I'm a different person now."

"Sit down." Callum said calmly. Emma carried on her 'tour' of the living room. "Emma! For God's sake sit down!" Callum repeated firmly. Startled, Emma looked at him before doing as he asked. She turned to face him pulling her sleeves over her shaking hands. "What do you think I'm going to do?" He asked. Emma shrugged, bracing herself.

"It just all came tumbling out and when I start… well I can't stop." She explained apologetically.

"Carry on." Callum insisted. Emma frowned, deep furrows appearing above her brow bone. "I don't care if you feel that you drag on… I wanna hear what you have to say." Emma smiled weakly, her stomach churning as she searched over and over for an excuse to carry on. She didn't need or want Callum criticising her break up.

"You didn't come here for me to burden all my problems onto you." Emma said.

"No… I came to give you this…" Callum looked over the side of the chair and produced a teal blue scarf Emma knew she'd seen before.

"Where… oh my God!" She smiled fondly. She'd been convinced that had been left, along with all the carefree times, in Milan. "Thank you so much!" She said, loving the feel of the soft material running between her fingers. "I thought I'd lost it. I searched… everywhere so many times over!" She sighed sheepishly, not quite looking at Callum. "Thank you." She repeated again, shocked. Her heart was hammering in her chest for reasons unbeknown to her.

"Anyway, that's what I came to do – now you can tell me all about this asshole of an ex-husband you acquired." Emma couldn't help but giggle slightly. She rolled her eyes, a sign of her giving in.

"This is your last chance to get lost before I waste another half an hour of your time." She warned, a small part of her hoping he didn't bugger off, as she knew he should. She really didn't deserve so much of his time or thought.

"Fire away darlin'." Callum said, still standing solid in his offer to listen to all her troubles. Emma blushed lightly. 'Darlin'. God that word should have some criminal penalty attached to it, she thought bitterly. If only it meant something…

"Ok… well. Where was I?" Emma teased, poking her tongue out at Callum, effortlessly drawing out the time a little longer. "I was arrested for Attempted Murder and Matt was taken to St Hugh's where he made quick recovery and made it out the next day. I spent the night in the cells – a complete mess. Will came to see me several times and I was interviewed as well. Nothin' I said was getting me anywhere. Until I realised Matt was pressing charges. Apparently I'd gone into the living room with the intention of knocking him into next week and that I wasn't going to leave him until I'd done that. He told CID that I was violent – that it wasn't the first time I'd clobbered him." Callum opened his mouth, before closing it promptly, thinking better of it. "Needless to say, I hadn't ever hit him before." Emma added. "He wanted to see me… Gina stayed with me – I think she could tell I was scared. Matt started shouting, asking why I'd done it – why I wanted to leave him and why I believed Will that Nina wasn't dead. And that was it. Will had been trying to get Nina to give evidence against Matt, but we didn't need it anymore. Matt's temper made him look dodgy – questionable evidence or something, and being a Prosecution Lawyer, he knew that. He withdrew the allegation and there was this weird unsaid agreement between us that we just didn't go anywhere near each other again."

"You didn't press charges?" Callum asked, shocked. This wasn't the Emma he knew.

"No – I just wanted out. The deal was, we got divorced – I got the house and everythin' and he moved station. I dunno where he is now – and that's the way I want it to stay, y'ano?"

"Rough deal. How did you get him to buy that?"

"I had more leverage that I knew what to do with!" Emma smiled. "I could have ruined him – he could have ended up in prison, all I had to do was click my fingers and – literally – there were people ready to go pick him up. I guess 'CPS Lawyer jailed for Assault' written across the Canley Gazette wasn't too appealing."

"No." Callum agreed, amused. Now this, this was the Emma he knew, and had grown to like.

"Nina and I went down to Cornwall for a few weeks and just – forgot about it all. You'd think that I'd wana be as far away from that girl as possible but we're really close now. We get each other - she didn't ask any questions I didn't want to answer and vice versa. She'd a good person to know." Emma said, looking at a small frame on the mantelpiece. Callum followed her gaze to the picture – he could see Emma and a brunette woman a similar height and build to Emma standing next to her. They both had half glasses of white wine in their hands and were obviously in a swanky wine bar somewhere. One thing that struck Callum was how happy they both looked. They'd been through so much, yet somehow, found some kind of friendship in each other, a kindred spirit, and it looked like it had helped them both leaps and bounds.

"When was that?" Callum asked.

"A few weeks before the bomb. It was her birthday so a group of us managed to get hold of some tickets to an opening in the city." Emma said. "It was great… walking around in these new dresses we'd all bought… killer heals. The amount of times we got photographed was unbelievable. It was like… I dunno they thought were all 'Somebodies'." Callum looked at the picture again. Emma was wearing a purple dress with silver beading around the neck. It looked quite low cut, but the picture finished before the neckline did. Nina was in a cream strapless number – they might as well have been celebrities. In Callum's opinion, they were both worth a lot more than many girls that were on the 'big screen', not least because of what they'd been through.

"I'm sure you all looked loads better than any celebs' there." Callum assured Emma gently. Emma grinned, allowing herself to be flattered by the comment. It was true she had felt good.

Leaving one thought trail and entering another, Emma wondered whether she'd ever feel quite so special again. With cameras flickering left right and centre and red carpets struck up everywhere, she didn't think so. Another thing that crossed her mind was the fact she might never be able to wear that dress again, with the scars that covered are arms, legs and chest, it would look very unsightly to say the least. And to her, lighting always made it look so much worse. The way she saw it, even if no one else noticed, a tiny part of her would never be able to let go the fact that there were white and pink lines criss-crossing over her body. The dress costing half her monthly wage didn't occur to her, not until much later.


	7. He Talks Like A Gentleman

_**Picking up the Pieces**_

**He Talks Like A Gentleman**

"Thanks for coming around." Emma smiled, more than an hour later. Callum had decided that he'd imposed on Emma for way too long, having just wanted to deliver the scarf and be off. The reason he'd wanted it to be such a quick visit was that he thought it'd be awkward between them – but it wasn't, and he couldn't have complained about having to spend another hour or so in her company. "It's been nice to… just talk."

"I was with you the whole weekend, Em. You could of… should of said something." Callum insisted.

"The session with Ali was a bit thought provoking though. I didn't realise I still felt half of that crap. I honestly thought I'd left Matt behind when I'd gone down to Cornwall with Nina. But… maybe not."

"Don't beat yourself up over it." Callum replied, pulling Emma into a hug, failing to think anything of it before he moved her towards his chest. "You didn't do anything to deserve Matt – what he did to you… it was pure evil." Emma wrapped her arms around Callum's back, daring herself to close her eyes as he rested his chin on the top of her head. She breathed in deeply, allowing herself to relive parts of Milan. When they first kissed after he gave her the scarf – that had been so, so unexpected, but it had been the first time since Matt she'd allowed herself to enjoy getting close to someone without wondering about the consequences. It had been the first time, since Matt, the consequences had blown up right before her.

It hadn't changed her feelings much though. Although she hated to admit it, treating him like shit hadn't made him any easier to hate.

"So… calm." Emma whispered. Slowly, her brain told her she had actually said something aloud. She pulled herself away from Callum, covering her face with her hands.

"What is?" Callum asked, bemused. Emma blushed an impressive shade of puce he'd only ever seen before on a beetroot.

"Which version do you want? The truth… or the _truth_?" She asked, sitting down at the foot of the stairs.

"Which ever suits you best." Callum said, sitting down next to Emma, trying to resist the urge of wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into him.

"Ok… promise you me you won't laugh?" Emma pleaded. Callum nodded, eager to hear what she had to say.

"I was just thinking about Milan." Emma said, tracing lines on the wooden laminate with her foot so she didn't have to look at Callum.

"You were?" Callum asked, a little too quickly. "What about?" He fired another question at Emma, this time, slightly slower.

"Everything…" Emma replied, keeping as vague as possible. God knew she'd be the locker room gossip for weeks to come if she divulged any more to her Sergeant. Looking out of the side of her ice blue eyes, she saw Callum staring, slightly open mouthed at her. He had this way that told her she had to spill more. She had to explain things so he got the full picture and not some sketchy blurred one he drew up in his mind. "When you gave me the scarf." Emma added. "After you gave me the scarf too." Callum hooked his fingers under Emma's chin, averting her gaze from the floor.

"Look at me." He insisted quietly, calmly. Emma did as she was asked, her heart racing. "Just… excuse me… one second." Emma bit down on her lower lip, expecting Callum to dart off the stair, looking for something in particular. Seconds later, he was still sitting next to Emma, but she could feel his hand slipping over hers, before he squeezed it tight.

"Callum you idiot! What the hell are you doing?" Emma asked, reacting in the only way she knew possible. The silence he replied with said nothing to her, but only increased her anxiety. "Cal!" She repeated. "You're being all weird. Weirder than normal." She added, allowing herself to smirk slightly. Callum grinned in that heart fluttering way he did when they were away, when it was just the two of them. He was so different behind closed doors. There was no tough façade that he hid behind. He was who he was – and Emma liked that. Maybe it wasn't just the fact he was so sweet – maybe it was also that only she got to see that sweet, romantic side to him. She knew there always had been a slightly selfish side to her.

"One second – no questions, ok?" He repeated, giving no time for Emma to answer before he leant towards her quickly placing his lips against hers holding her shoulders firm in his grip. He felt Emma's breath fall from her body in shock as her shoulders went limp. Seconds later, after lingering for a heartbeat too long, Callum pulled back, dropping his hands to Emma's.

"Ok… this better be good…" Emma said, blinking quickly, not sure where to look or what to do.

"It is… I just I had to check something."

"Riiiiight. And…" Emma trailed off nervously.

"I'm sure everything that happened in Milan happened for a reason…" Emma's heart sunk dramatically. "…and equally, I'm sure you had your reason for saying what you said on the plane…"

"I was scared." Emma swallowed quickly before she realised she was talking.

"But… you're probably gonna kill me…"

"Promise I won't." Emma said urgently.

"…It's different without you Em." Callum revealed.

"Different." Emma's shoulders sunk. Different. That's all he was giving her – he kissed her, he held her in suspense, got her hopes up because it was 'different'. "Jeez." She groaned, her hair falling over her face.

"I know what it's like being with you. And now I'm not… I can't get used to it again." Callum said sincerely, hooking the strands of Emma's fringe behind her ear so she would look at him. "What would you say… if I asked you out?" Emma's mouth dropped open, her eyes breaking into a smile before the nerves around her mouth moved.

"Uh…"

"Tomorrow night? At half seven?"

"Uh… yes?" Emma grinned, covering her face shyly with her hands. "Yes. Yes! Yes!" She repeated excitedly. "Thank you." Callum frowned, the smile draining from his face – he hadn't expected Emma to agree to it. He thought she'd run a mile and a half. If he'd known, if only he'd known… he would have asked her out so much sooner that was for sure. This, Callum was going to make absolutely sure of, matched up to Emma's expectations, and that would entail going above and beyond the whole weekend. One evening, he had to make sure was better than four days in a foreign country. Who said dates were supposed to be fun?

"Thank you? What for?" Callum asked, breaking free from his thoughts.

"Asking me out. Again. Well… now. Not again." Emma blustered, pulling a face and shaking her head. "A'right. Ignore me." She concluded, smiling. "I haven't got work tomorrow. So… I'll see you at half seven?"

"Yeah… I'll come and pick you up… if you like?"

"That'd be cool." Emma replied, nodding, holding her hands out to Callum who pulled her off the lowest stair and into a tight embrace.

"See ya then, then." Callum smiled, lightly kissed Emma's check before he opened the door. Emma found her hand gently grazing her cheek where Callum's lips had just been.

"Come here you… you big softie!" Emma giggled, taking his face between her hands and leaning against him on tip toes, not bothering to be as polite as he just had been by pecking her cheek, but pressing herself against his lips, almost as he had done not long before. Once Emma decided to pull away, Callum couldn't help but looked slightly, well, shocked. Emma giggled, poking her tongue out playfully. She popped her thumb under his jaw, closing his mouth. "Bye…" Emma hinted, swinging on the door happily.

"Yeah… bye…" Callum said, wondering just what had happened as he walked down Emma's path, the paving only lit by the light from her hallway.

"And Cal…" Emma waited until he turned around before carrying on. "Don't be late!"


	8. Dear Diary

**Picking up the Pieces**

**Dear Diary**

_Ok… so I forgot to fill this in last night. It's now… 3 in the morning and I've barely slept. At least I don't think I have. You know when you have this feeling. You look at the clock and it's ten to twelve – you've been lying in bed for hours and you're beginning to get annoyed with yourself. You know you've been knackered all day but now you're able to go to sleep – you just can't. Then, next time you look at the clock it's half 2 - yet you have absolutely no recollection of sleep or of dreams. It's just like one big… black, void._

_That though, is beside the point – sort of. The reason I can't sleep: Callum. One word but it couldn't be more complicated. He came round last night. A scarf he bought me in Milan found its way into his suitcase so he was returning it. We talked… I told him about the counselling, he offered to hear what I had to say. He didn't know about Matt so I found myself explaining all of that to him, then we talked a bit more before he made his excuses. He gave me a hug and I got thinking – dangerous thoughts. Milan… all I could think about was Milan. So we started talking again – this time on the bottom step of my stairs! Stranger things happened though. He asked for me to excuse him for a second – then he started being all weird. Then…_

_Then he kissed me. _

_He said he was trying something – then went into this long… warbling thing about how it was different without me. How because he'd been with me in Milan, he couldn't get it out of his mind that maybe things could be different back home too. I've never known him to be so – shy. God Callum isn't even shy. He's this big ego, a bit of rebel. You know not to cross him at work, not to over step the mark when he's around, to follow orders and not question him. There are all these words I could use to describe him, but not one of them fits with the person I saw last night and in Milan. Then came the excuses. He said I must have had my reasons for dumping him on the plane but… would I go out with him. Tonight? _

_So in my head now, you'd think I'd be thinking about what to write next, or how my hand's aching, or how I've almost filled two pages with all my messed up thoughts, but I'm not. I'm thinking about where he'll take me tonight, what I'll wear, what he'll be wearing, what we'll talk about… whether I'll go back to his or he'll come back to mine or whether we'll decide to see each other for coffee tomorrow lunchtime and talk about what's going on – what's going to happen between us. I've realised I can't quite function when I've got him on the brain. It's infectious! Last time I felt like this… was at Uni. When a couple of my girlfriends came and told me that Matt was interested. I didn't believe them – they were forever setting me up with some guy or another. But, when I saw him on the way to my next lecture, he sort of did this weird, wave thing and smiled at me. After that the girls knew, and part of me knew that this wasn't some set up; that maybe I did have a chance. Looking back, a part of me does wish it had been a set up that the girls had planted, but I don't think in five or six years time I'll be looking back on now wishing that some of my colleagues had set Callum and I up just so what ever happens isn't my fault. We may not still be together – in fact our relationship may not even get off the ground properly, but I don't think I'll ever regret it happening. Not after last time._


	9. Amore

_**Picking up the Pieces**_

**Amore**

Emma woke up later that morning, revelling in the fact that her alarm hadn't woken her up at some ungodly hour like it did usually on a weekday. She wrapped the covers tight around her, shielding her eyes with the purple mass as she looked towards her window. Light was streaming through the crack in the centre of the curtains as the sun poked its head above the tower blocks on the Eastern horizon of London. How peaceful the city looked at this hour, before the criminals set out, before the inevitable gun shots rang through the city; Emma thought lazily, naïve to the fact that a few minutes walk away there would have been bankers and economists working their calculators since before the cockerel had woken the lazy few thousand so that the breakfast news show could bring the latest fiasco happening across the Atlantic down Wall Street.

Emma sat up, swinging her legs over the side of her bed, sliding her pink fluffy slippers on a skating across her bedroom, stopping briefly to pick up her phone from the side before she made her way downstairs. Lifting herself onto a bar stall before she slid her phone screen up, she went to write a text. Her finger hovered over the send button, before she changed her mind. Who could she ask into London to help her chose an outfit for the evening? Sally would be working, not that she could tell her anyway, for it would be around the station quicker than a lightning bolt struck a house during a storm, Beth was as illusive as ever at the moment, and like Sally wouldn't be able to keep it to herself long enough for Emma to warn Callum that someone knew. That left… Emma scrolled down her list of contacts. Just who exactly? Her mother – would stick her ore in where it wasn't wanted – when could she meet him, what was he like, what did he do for a living? Her sister in law would be working – as usual. Her brother would tell her just where to stick her shopping trip – before getting all protective of her, then proceeding to lock her in a remote castle in the English countryside, challenging Callum to come and find her before he could take her out. No. She was going to have a relaxing day out by herself; it didn't look like she had much choice in the company matter anyway.

***

Emma was sat in Starbucks admiring her purchase that was lying proudly in it's paper bag when a mad tapping on the glass window next to her brought her roughly to her senses. Trust Sally. Emma only noticed Callum standing slightly awkwardly to the side of the blonde officer as Sally bounded into the café.

"Hey!" Emma stood up, reciprocating Sally's hug despite the strange looks they were getting. "So this is what you get up to when you are given some compassionate leave." Sally grinned. "You better be careful Sergeant Stone might report you to the Super." She teased. Emma glanced at Callum, and smiled slightly.

"I'm sure he wouldn't dare." Emma giggled in reply.

"Tenner says 'e does." Sally bargained, flashing her superior an angelic smile. Emma laughed even more, biting down on her tongue.

"Your on."

"Sally, come on." Callum said rolling his eyes, trying to get Sally away from Emma so the pair would stop ganging up on him.

"Callum, come on." Sally mimicked, before peering over the low table Emma had been sitting at. "Ooooh." Sally cooed, seeing the bag. "That's a bit classy in't it?" She asked, eyebrows raised accusingly. Emma blushed, trying to kick the bag from view.

"Oh – it's nothing." Emma bluffed, looking up through her fringe at Callum.

"So who's the lucky bloke?" Sally continued.

"You wouldn't know him." Emma defended. "Hang on – how did you know it was for a guy?" Emma frowned, trailing off.

"I didn't. But I do now." Sally grinned evilly. "Anyway, spill your guts Honey."

"Yeah – come on Emma, I didn't realise you had a bloke hidden away from us." Callum said, challenging Emma for what she and Sally had done earlier.

"Cal!" Emma whined. Sally frowned between the two of them, deciding to leave it; putting whatever had just happened between the two of them down to Milan.

"So…"

"He's called… look you totally wouldn't know him." Emma said, unable to think up a suitable name quick enough. "Cameron." She grimaced eventually – it sort of sounded a little bit like Callum. She'd decided long before that her aim was to make Callum pay for pressing her about her 'secret' date.

"Right…" Sally said, drawing her words out in a tone that forced Emma to spill more.

"He's twen'y nine…"

"Oooh – an older guy!" Sally grinned. "I like your style Miss Keane."

"He's in the MET – Sergeant." Sally's smile dropped and Emma knew only too well why. The amount of nights they'd spent warning the other off dating a guy in the police was huge – they deciding that just because they looked half decent, it wasn't quite worth sacrificing your privacy to the locker room banter.

"Won't your shifts always clash?" Sally asked, that being on of the arguments that the girls had made when talking themselves out of whoever was hot that week. "And Sergeant too? If I didn't know better I might wonder if you were usin' him for something." Emma looked briefly at Callum, looking accusingly at him. If he hadn't asked, he wouldn't have had to hear any of it. Not that there was a lot she could do now. "What does he look like?"

"You're so predictable!" Emma groaned. "A'right!" She gave in. "Tall, dark… absolutely gorgeous… blue eyes…" Emma smiled, trying her best to look at Sally whilst making eye contact with Callum, who was looking a little uncomfortable with the situation. Sally's eyes had almost popped from her head as she looked on at her friend with jealousy.

"Some girls get all the luck. Must be taking you somewhere nice if you've treated yourself to that bugger of a price tag."

"Yeah." Emma agreed. "He only takes me to the best places in town." Emma exaggerated. "Last time he took me to this exclusive Italian place. And he surprised me with a silk scarf flown in especially from Italy just to keep a theme going." Sally was almost going a weird jade green colour with jealousy as Emma explained.

"Sounds like you shouldn't expect to be going anywhere other than a Michelin starred restaurant." Sally muttered, scowling.

"Oh, don't worry – I don't. I've got him well trained." Emma winked at Callum who was looking bemused, flattered and completely head over heels in love.

"I think… uh we should be going." Sally said eventually. "And remember… if he says anything about any single mates – send them in my direction." Emma laughed to herself, shaking her head. Maybe she could set Sally up with Will or somebody equally as off limits just to see what would happen.

"I'll let Cam know that you're on the look out." Emma agreed, looking pointedly at Callum who shook his head, also unable to keep the smirk off his face. "Y'ano what, he said something about a friend splitting up with his girlfriend." Sally's face lit up. "I'll do some digging."

Nice one!" Sally pulled Emma into a hug before bounding out the door, a visible spring to her step. She walked over to the shop opposite Starbucks, looking wistfully in the window, her finger tracing a line around an outfit she'd obviously taken to.

"I guess I'll see you tonight." Emma smiled in an undertone, looking discreetly at Callum.

"I guess you will. I can't wait to see what you've bought." He smiled.

"Oh God." Emma cringed. How desperate did she look – going out to buy an expensive dress? It was only s first date. "It's… nothing special." She tried to excuse herself, but nothing seemed to quite add up.

"Whatever." Callum brushed Emma's worries to the side, knowing despite what she said, she'd look amazing. "I can't wait to hear your plans for Sal either. Poor girl!" Emma cackled evilly. "Poor, poor girl…"

"She'll get over it!" Emma laughed. She brushed her hand against Callum's quickly, before waving 'bye' to him through the window. He turned to go and get Sally, sprinting across the marble flooring in several swift steps. Emma fell back in her seat, clutching her latte again, running her thumb over the white china as she lapsed into a daydream about the evening, unable to wipe the irrepressible grin from her face.


	10. A Wish Upon A Star

_So... this is it, the FINAL CHAPTER. I hope it has been enjoyed (for the second time) - I guess it teaches me not to take fics down :L_

_Please read and review one last time!_

_Thanks :D  
Em x_

* * *

_**Picking up the Pieces**_

**A Wish Upon A Star**

Why is it, when you want everything to go right for once, everything seems to become problematic? You can usually do your hair perfectly when you're just going to work (and when you only have five minutes to spend tweaking it). And as for your make up, the foundation you've been using for months suddenly has look like it has had half a tub of bronzer added to it and looks like gone off, lumpy gravy, your mascara is all stuck hard to the brush and coming off onto your lashes in black clumps and your eyeliner won't sharpen properly for breaking every time you put it within two inches of your eyes. If that wasn't enough, your lip gloss keeps going all bitty when you put it on because for some unexplainable reason your lips have become drier and more chapped than ever before.

Call it cynical, but it's true. And every single thing that could go wrong for Emma, did. She'd washed her makeup off three times, each time for different reasons. First her foundation was the wrong colour, second time around she'd left the foundation and instead dusted her cheeks with powder before adding bronzer, only her hand slipped giving her a large, orange stripe down one side of her face and the third time, after leaving the bronzer out, perfecting the art of applying eyeliner and lip gloss she poked herself in the eye the mascara wand. Why do we bother again?

"_Shittyfuckycrappybollocks_!" Emma groaned, each syllabal dragged out dramatically. She took several deep breaths before resolving to tackle her make up for one last time. Her skin luckily hadn't broken out so beside the slither of concealer she used to cover the scar that was all creamed up, she left the it along with the foundation, the powder, the blusher and the bronzer and worried only over the mascara and lip-gloss.

'Now how long did that take?' she thought to herself. For the forty-five minutes she'd spent wrestling with the fancy stuff, she'd taken five or ten minutes on the end result. Now for the hair. Where do we even start? It had gone fluffy and static because she hadn't had time to dry it because… of the make up. She groaned, so tempted to whack it up into a ponytail.

There was only so much bad luck possible for one girl in one evening, so thankfully, when Callum rested his weight on the doorbell, Emma was ready and waiting. She raced to the door, her new, very expensive ruby red shift dress swished around her knees as the heels she'd picked up for a little less clattered loudly against the wooden laminate. She poked her head around the door and smiled.

"Hey." He grinned, leaning in to hug her. Emma pulled the door shut behind her, dropping her keys into an oversized clutch. As the pair walked down the pathway, Emma could see Callum was far away. 'Is it too much of a cliché to comment on how good she looks? Doesn't every guy say that to a girl when he takes her out?' He wondered, looking over Emma, the silky looking material that embraced her, shining under the dusky sunlight. Callum's eyes rose to her neckline where a small silver chain was draped loosely around with a small pendant dangling from the end. 'How was it something so simple could avert your eyes so far?' He found his gaze at the low square neck of the dress.

"Penny for them." Emma said softly, slipping her hand into Callum's as they fell into a slow stroll along the pavement.

"Hmuh?" Callum asked, looking down at Emma, confused.

"Your thoughts. You look…"

"I was just wondering whether; hypothetically of course…" He grinned meekly before continuing, the smile not removing itself. "If I was to tell a girl she looked nice, would she believe me? Because, from what I've heard it's some sort of standard thing for a comment to be passed but I wouldn't bother if I wasn't going to be taken seriously…"

"Well…" Emma paused, her hand pulling Callum to a paused as well; their hands not breaking. "That would depend." She started. "…On whether you looked at her when you said it, and a couple of other things that a girl mustn't divulge to a man. Ever." She said seriously, biting down on her lip to stop herself smirking at the look on Callum's face. Amusement mixed with disappointment. She'd hardly answered his question.

"Well in that case… Em I think you look, well, lovely." He complimented her slightly uneasily; as if it wasn't something he did every day, making sure he kept eye contact even though he was sure that made it ten times harder.

"Thank you." She replied graciously, looking at the floor and scuffing the bottom of her shoe before Callum started walking again. She hung behind slightly, falling into step with him. His arm wound it's way around her waist, his fingers working circles into her hip as his skin slid over the material that covered it. Emma placed her hand carefully over Callum's – 'One; check.' she thought, pleased. It was common knowledge among girls that if a guy said he liked what you were wearing, the proceeded to wrap his hand around your waste it didn't mean he was feeling protective, but that he liked the feel of your clothes. Or so Emma was told – it was nice to believe, after all!

"So where are we going?" Emma asked curiously.

"Rule one:" Callum introduced. "A guy must never, ever divulge to a girl where he's taking her." He smiled annoying, mimicking Emma almost down to the word. Emma looked up at every sign they passed and although they didn't go far, nowhere stood out to her.

"I'll be there in a second so surely you can tell me?" Emma pressed. "I won't tell anyone you've spilled." She added, fluttering her eyelashes as he looked down at her.

"If we'll be there in a second then surely even your patience will stretch that long?" He replied smoothly. "Just shut up an' walk, girl!" Emma promptly closed her mouth. How did he know – he hadn't even looked at her!

"B…but!"

"Uh!" Callum interrupted her, holding up his hand to silence her.

"How…"

"Wow! Emma…"

"Callum!"

"I told you…"

"…How did you know I was gonna say something?" Emma asked, raising her voice over Callum's, looking very proud of herself when he had no choice but to listen.

"I'm psychic." Emma giggled. Emma raised an eyebrow. "Happy?"

"Uh… I dunno – you tell me." Emma challenged.

"Well… of course you are – I seem to remember you letting slip last night you were glad I'd asked you out." He was holding his hands to his head as if some 6th sense was telling him what to say. "And also because… not only are you out with me, but we are just about… there!" Emma looked around.

"Ok…" She said uncertainly.

"Close your eyes…" Callum said lowly, taking Emma's hand and guiding her up the narrow path, before pausing briefly. Although tempted to open her eyes, Emma didn't, realising how much more she was listening out for. A key in a lock turned, clicking as it opened, before the squealing of some door hinges sent shivers down her spine. "There's a step there." Callum said. Emma pulled her leg up, letting her foot down rather heavily, her heel making an echoing noise down a hallway. "I know… you were probably expecting something different, but I didn't know what to do." Emma nodded, her breath baited as Callum held both her hands in front of her. Another door lock flicked open, however it was nowhere near as noisy as the front door. Cool air hit Emma again and her hair billowed slightly from her around her neck. She hadn't fully appreciated just how warm the indoors was. Her shoulders shook as Goosebumps raised the hairs on her arms. "I should have told you to bring a jumper… sorry." Callum apologised, seeing Emma shiver. "You can open your eyes now by the way." He added.

"Blimey!" Emma couldn't hide her surprise – she never had been very good at it. There were several small lights dotted around the small garden, and a rug set down in the centre of the grass with four tea lights on the corners, the flames flickering in the dim light. Her eyes fell on the tall green bottle hall full with a crimson liquid. The other half of the bottle had already been poured into two oversized wine glasses. It looked like something out of a romantic film Emma and Sally would rent out during the weekend. "God Cal – this is better than anywhere we could have gone!" Emma breathed.

"I just wanted it to be a little different to a normal date." He smiled slightly at the kiss Emma had just pressed to his cheek. "After everything… y'ano." Emma nodded.

"Yeah." She didn't want him to go on. If she had anything to do with it they wouldn't talk about the plane journey home. Not just tonight, but preferably forever. Callum led Emma over to the rug and sat down. She mirrored him, leaning on her hand as she kicked her shoes off, standing them up on the grass next to her. "I feel really overdressed." Emma said uneasily, looking down at her dress, and then looking up at Callum. He was wearing a shirt paired with some dark jeans. Smart casual. If only Emma had decided to go with some jeans and a nice top.

"I think you look beautiful." Callum said, his eyes turning up slightly. Emma noticed the loss of strain in his voice compared to how he had spoken to her earlier about how nice she looked. He still managed to maintain eye contact. "Hang on a sec." Callum stood up and half ran half walked back inside, tapping the kitchen light on, before carrying on his dash to find whatever he had lost. Emma's gaze didn't move from deep in the house. Callum re-appeared minutes later, this time carrying something. He joined Emma on the rug once more, pulling a jumper over her head, hooking first her left arm through the sleeve and then her right arm. He pulled the hood around her head, smoothing her hair behind her ears so not to ruin it; unable to result dropping his lips against hers after.

"Better?" He asked. Emma nodded in the affirmative and smiled shyly, pulling the long sleeves down over her hands. "We won't stay out all night." Callum said.

"It's pretty out here. I wouldn't mind." Emma replied earnestly.

***

"Thank you for the meal." Emma said, referring to the takeaway Callum had ordered in an hour and a half or so ago. They'd gone inside to eat it, before Emma had asked if they could go back outside.

"Oh… ok." Callum smiled, twirling Emma's hair around his finger as they lay on the rug, Emma's head laying on Callum's stomach so she could just about feel his heartbeat below her.

"Look." She breathed, her finger following a glimmer of silver shooting through the sky, weaving between the glitter that was stuck onto an indigo velvet background. "It's so… quiet." Emma whispered, hugging the hoody around her body breathing in its scent. She could make out the Lynx that had worked its way into the fibres and realised she'd was envisaging Callum holding her tight, his arms hugged tight around her waist when they were only resting on her hip bone.

"Wouldn't believe we were in the middle of London would you?" Callum asked.

"Nope. Maybe it's not as bad as we were making out in Milan." Emma relented, remembering what it had felt like compared to the seemingly luxury of Milan. "Apart from that aeroplane," Emma pointed to the sky, "and the odd cab – we're totally alone amongst eleven million other people." Her heart skipped a beat, and she found herself turning over so she was leaning on her elbows, resting her chin in her hands, looking down at Callum. "I've really enjoyed this." Emma whispered. The slightest gust of wind could have taken her voice.

"Me too." Callum sighed. "It doesn't have to end though. We can make a go of things. See what happens." He proposed.

"Yeah." Emma laughed. "It could work, right?" She asked, after calming down. "On the plane home, I couldn't see how, but now… I can." The smile this news had brought her wouldn't go away, especially after Callum pulled her down into a passionate, fiery embrace. His hands were resting dangerously low on her back giving her butterflies in her stomach.

They had grown together so much. The little blip on the plane, as far as either of them could see, it didn't matter. It was a tiny, invalid piece of information that both could easily forget. The sparks that were ignited when the couple were together were getting bigger and bigger and eventually, Emma knew that if they were allowed they would become a full blown raging inferno that was unable to be tamed. She hoped that one day, she could feel that kind of passion again. Up until very recently, that thought had been a distant dream. Now it looked close to happening. With Callum, now who'd have seen that coming?


End file.
